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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 9, Poema 46
XLIV.
The
bone
that
has
no
marrow;
What
ultimate
for
that?
It
is
not
fit
for
table,
For
beggar,
or
for
cat.
A
bone
has
obligations,
A
being
has
the
same;
A
marrowless
assembly
Is
culpabler
than
shame.
But
how
shall
finished
creatures
A
function
fresh
obtain?
—
Old
Nicodemus'
phantom
Confronting
us
again!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana